Harry Potter and the Last Battle
by Rogue28
Summary: Harry's seventh year and the final battle of the Second War. Some Harry/Ginny and Ron/Herminone.
1. Talking to the Dursleys

**Chapter 1: Talking to the Dursleys**

The shadows on the ceiling shifted, and a soft hoot met his ears as Harry Potter grinned to himself, waking up to the morning sunlight. There usually wasn't much to smile about while he was a resident on Privet Drive, but today, he had good reason to smile.

Today, he was seventeen.  Today, he was no longer an underage wizard.  Today, if he wanted, he could hex Dudley Dursley all he wanted.

Well, technically, he couldn't hex Dudley, thanks to protections for Muggles.  That still didn't mean he couldn't give the Dursleys the fright of their lives this morning.

He reached out for his glasses and pushed them onto his face.  This, in all honesty had probably been the best summer he'd ever had at the Dursleys, thanks to the renewed threats of Mad-Eye Moody to Uncle Vernon when he'd gotten off the Hogwarts express.  Adding that to the fact that he spent as much time at Mrs. Figg's house as possible, chatting with Mundungus Fletcher or Tonks, whoever happened to be there at the moment.

It was too bad it was the full moon today, really, because he would have liked to have seen Professor Lupin.  Lupin, who would be a wolf later this evening.  He never really thought that he would be grateful to Snape for anything, but since Snape brewed Lupin's Wolfsbane Potion, Harry was grateful to see his friend spared anymore pain than he was already going through.

Harry had only seen Lupin occasionally that last year since—he forced himself to think it—since Sirius had died.  The fact that he was the only Marauder, the only _true_ Marauder left, seemed to be with Lupin all the time, and his hair had gone gray in only a few months.  

He heard a thud out in the hallway, and knew his Aunt Petunia was up.  A sharp knock on his door was followed by, "Get up, Harry, it's seven-thirty all ready."

"I'm coming," he answered, pulling himself out of the bed, briefly reflecting on the fact that she was actually calling him by his name this summer, rather than "boy."  It was a nice change, and he reminded himself to thank Mad-Eye Moody the next time he saw the Auror.

He sighed to himself at the same time, too.  Seventeen years old.  He'd been thinking about this day for a long time.  The war was raging outside, and yet on Privet Drive, no one, with the exception of Arabella Figg, seemed to know or care.

The Dursleys were going to find out today.  Everything.  And today, they had no choice but to listen.

Pulling on his jeans, an old pair of Bill Weasley's that none of the other Weasleys could fit into, he quickly pulled the Chudley Cannons shirt that Ron had given him for Christmas over his head.  It didn't have any obvious wizarding marks on it, except for the fact that it magically fit the wearer perfectly, so he felt comfortable wearing it.  No one on Privet Drive spoke to him away, thinking that he went to a school for the criminally insane, after all.

Running his hand through his hair, standing it up on end, he gathered up some parchment, quill and ink, and his potions textbook.  Even during a war, Snape managed to find time to assign nasty essays for his N.E.W.T. Potions class over the summer.  That was where having wizarding friends came in handy.  Even Arabella knew a good deal about Potions, despite being a Squib.  Last, he grabbed his wand, sticking it into his back pocket, despite Moody's warnings about wizards losing buttocks that way.  

He walked down the stairs, hopping to one side as Dudley came hurtling down past him.  Dudley had finally started growing upwards instead of outwards, and had the build of a professional rugby player.  Harry wasn't sure why Dudley had such energy on a Saturday morning, then remembered that Uncle Vernon was taking him to see a football game that day.

Harry wondered if they would be going after he told them what he had to say.

"Good morning, Aunt Petunia," he said, setting his things down on the counter.  She glanced over at him, and her face twisted up. 

"Take that stuff back upstairs, right now," she said. "None of your _nonsense_ down here.  Then come back.  I want you to start peeling the potatoes for the hash browns this morning."

"My stuff needs to stay here," Harry said shortly, pulling his wand.  "And as for the potatoes, my pleasure."  The potatoes suddenly jumped and began peeling themselves.

"What—what?" Uncle Vernon sputtered as he entered the kitchen with Dudley.  "Up-upstairs, right now, boy!  And take that ruddy wand with you!"

Dudley smirked.  "You're going to get expelled from school!"

Harry grinned back at his cousin, and Dudley took a step back.  "Not likely.  Never mind that none of you remembered, but today was my birthday, and I'm not under-age anymore.  I can use magic anytime I want."

Uncle Vernon's face was completely red, now, at the mention of the m-word.  "Boy!"

Harry raised a hand.  "Uncle Vernon, sit down.  I've got something to tell you all."

Aunt Petunia straightened from her place by the sink where she had been covering her shriek of surprise when the potatoes had begun to peel themselves.  "What could you possibly have to tell us?"

Harry sighed.  "A lot."  With a flick of his wand, three of the chairs at the table scooted themselves out.  "Go on, sit down.  I'm not going to hurt you."

They sat down, too startled to do anything else.  "But—but what about my football game," Dudley stuttered.  "We've got to leave soon—"

"Hush, Dudley," Harry said quietly, but firmly.  "Unless you'd really like me to finish the job that Hagrid started all those years ago."

Dudley shook his head mutely.  

"Well, go on, then," Uncle Vernon said.  "What did you have to tell us?"

Harry reached down into his pocket and pulled out three coins.  Hermione had enchanted them for him.  He handed one to each of them.  "The wizarding world is in the middle of a war."

"A war?" Dudley said.  Aunt Petunia suddenly glared at her only son, and Harry was surprised to see her do so.  

"Go on, Harry," she said quietly, staring at the coin in her hand.  

Harry cleared his throat.  "Well, the guy that killed my parents.  Voldemort."  He refused to add the title of "Lord" to Voldemort's name.  "He's back."

Aunt Petunia let out a little shriek.  Harry could feel her eyes on his scar.

He closed his eyes.  "The wizarding world, they call me The Boy Who Lived.  Mum saved me.  She kept Voldemort from killing me."

"Why was this Voldemort character after _you?  He was after your parents because he was killing his enemies, but why you?" Uncle Vernon said, still spitting his words out, the whole idea of a wizarding war not frightening him like it should have.  _

Harry sighed.  He hadn't intended to go into the prophecy that had been revealed, the prophecy he'd gone after and that had ended up getting Sirius killed.  "There was a prophecy made by a Seer that said I would be an enemy to him, and one or the other of us would have to die for the other to live.  Voldemort tried to kill me, but Mum got in front of me.  It kept him from being able to kill me and it nearly killed him."

He looked up at his aunt, the only one of the Muggles seated around the table that would even remotely understand the seriousness of the situation.  "The war was over, and Dumbledore brought me to you.  When I started school, Voldemort began trying to return."

Dudley's glass shattered against the floor, and Harry stared at his cousin for a moment.  Dudley and he were nearly the same age, yet he felt much, much older than his cousin.  "_Reparo_," Harry muttered, and the glass flew back to it's original shape.  Dudley's orange juice remained on the table and floor, and Harry banished the liquid to the sink.  "First year, he killed unicorns to get their blood, so he could stay alive.  Anyone who drinks unicorn blood lives a cursed life.  Second year, he tried to kill Muggle-born wizards with a basilisk.  My friend Hermione was in the medical wing for months, and he nearly killed Ron's sister, Ginny."  Harry plunged past those memories of Hermione and Ginny, both unconscious.  "Third year, my godfather escaped from Azkaban.  He'd been there for twelve years, because they thought he'd betrayed my parents to Voldemort."

"Sirius Black?" Aunt Petunia said, her voice faint.  "He came to the house once for _her_.  Said that _he had been hurt."_

"Probably," Harry said.  "Sirius said that Dad was always getting himself into scrapes, usually with Sirius' help.  But Sirius hadn't betrayed them.  One of their other so-called friends, had betrayed them.  His name was Peter Pettigrew, and he had transformed himself into a rat.  Ron's rat, in fact.  Sirius came out to Hogwarts to kill him.  He didn't.  Peter went back to Voldemort."

"Fourth year," Harry began, and he felt his throat close up for a moment, because the terrible memories really started there.  "I was one of the Hogwarts champions for the Triwizard tournament.  The other champion was Cedric Diggory.  During the last task of the tournament, Cedric and I were both pulled through a Portkey to where Voldemort was hiding.  He killed Cedric right in front of me.  He nearly killed me, too."

Dudley's eyes were as wide as saucers.  "Then what happened?" he breathed, and Harry could tell that Dudley was listening to his as if it was some story out of a book.

"Voldemort came back that night," Harry said.  "The same protection that Mum gave me, he has now.  He took some of my blood, gave himself that protection.  He used to not be able to touch me."

"Then fifth year—"  Harry choked on his words.  "Fifth year was the year that Sirius died."

The Dursleys were silent.  All of them knew that the summer after Harry had come home, he locked himself in his room, without the Dursleys doing it for him.  Dudley had left his cousin mercifully alone.  "You remember when the dementors came after Dudley and I."

The fear that Aunt Petunia had felt for Dudley then was evident on her face once again.  "What happened that night?"

"One of the members of the Ministry of Magic set them on me," Harry said quietly.  "The Ministry is corrupt from inside out.  She didn't realize that I could drive them away.  You see, they hadn't come after me sooner, because I had wizards watching over me."  He didn't explain about Mrs. Figg at the moment, knowing Arabella wanted to enjoy the shock on the Dursley's faces when that happened.  

"That year, I found out about the prophecy, when Voldemort tried to steal it.  Several wizards were killed trying to get to it," Harry said.  "That's why Mum and Dad were killed, because of this prophecy, because Voldemort decided that I was a threat to him. It said that one of us had to die for the other to live."

"But, you're still here," Aunt Petunia said weakly.  

"And so is Voldemort," Harry said.  "The war's not over yet."  He took a deep breath.  "Last year, they started attacking Muggles."

Dudley shrieked, and knocked his glass over again.  Uncle Vernon began sputtering incoherently, and for a moment, Harry thought Aunt Petunia was going to faint dead away.

"And they didn't only attack Muggles," Harry said.  "They're attacking the families of those who are Muggle-born, as well as those wizarding families that support kind treatment of Muggles."  He took a deep breath.  "As well as Hogwarts."

"They attacked your school?" Dudley said, his voice quivering.  Harry nodded.  

"The entire school was in the battle," Harry said.  "Even the first years."  He closed his eyes, seeing the brilliant green light as Death Eaters shouted _Avada Kedavra_ at children.  Muggle-born children.  Wizard children.  It made no difference to them.  Even Slytherin House hadn't been immune to the horrible attack.  And then Lucius Malfoy had come after Ron and Hermione.  Ron had been knocked out by a Stunning Spell, and Hermione had been desperately trying to mutter "_Ennervate_," without being seen.  Harry had seen Malfoy, hadn't been able to get there in time, occupied with his own battle with Bellatrix Lestrange, the woman who had murdered Sirius.

_"Hagrid, Malfoy!" he screamed towards the half-giant, who began lumbering towards the blond Death Eater.  Harry ducked as Lestrange threw the Cruciatus at him again, falling to the ground and rolling.  "_Expelliarmus!_" he shouted, and her wand flew away as he sprang to his feet, lurching forward to tackle her.  He glanced back at Malfoy and Hagrid, Ron and Hermione.  "Hagrid, look out!"_

_Ron's wand suddenly met Hagrid's huge hand, and Harry had never seen such anger in his friend's face before.  Hagrid raised the wand, and Malfoy did the same, and they both uttered the same words, and Harry felt the ache in his heart before both were finished._

"AVADA KEDAVRA_!" both had shouted, and both had fallen, neither able to shield themselves from the Killing Curse at the same time.  Harry watched as both Malfoy and Hagrid fell to the ground, the still, quiet, sudden peace that death had brought them._

_Lestrange had brought him out of his sudden distraction, reaching for her wand, and Harry had pointed his own at her face_.

Lestrange was in prison now, he remembered, and continued where he broke off.  "Hagrid died, saving Ron and Hermione.  He was the last person to die at Hogwarts, because Dumbledore, Dumbledore—" Harry paused.  "I'm not sure what Dumbledore did, still.  But they were gone.  All the Death Eaters that weren't contained, and Voldemort.  They were gone.  Still alive, but not there."

He took a deep breath, and looked up to find his aunt and uncle's horrified faces fixed upon him.  "You know why I'm still alive, Aunt Petunia."

She nodded silently, and so did Uncle Vernon, and Harry was glad that he could spare himself explaining that.  The Howler Dumbledore had sent Aunt Petunia two years ago would remind them.  "I brought you those coins for a reason.  Hermione bewitched them for me.  If something happens to me, they'll starting ringing like a cellular telephone."

He took another deep breath.  "If that happens, you're in danger."  He reached back down into his pocket, and brought out a small box.  "This is Floo powder.  You've seen me use it before."

The doorbell rang, and Harry grinned.  Arabella, right on time.  "Dudley, would you please go let Mrs. Figg in, and bring her to the kitchen?"

Dudley did what Harry asked, for once, without argument or complaint.  "Your—your things," Aunt Petunia gasped, turning to make sure the potatoes were done.  

Harry didn't move, waiting as Arabella swept into the room.  "Good morning, Harry.  Did I get here on time?"

"Just in time," Harry said, putting his wand back in his back pocket.  She sighed.  

"Don't do that, Harry, Moody is at the house and if he sees you, you know he'll start roaring about 'Constant Vigilance' again, and I've already heard enough from him this morning.  Tonks and Lupin and Mundungus will let you get away with it, but please, for my sake, don't put your wand in your pocket."

She turned and began laughing as she saw the faces of the Dursley's.  "You—you're a _witch?" Aunt Petunia gasped, appalled that she'd been living down the street from such a woman._

"Oh, no, of course not," Arabella said, as Harry magicked a chair over for her.  "I'm a Squib.  My parents were wizards.  Anyway, Harry, go on with whatever you were saying."

Harry gave her a grateful smile.  "This is Floo powder.  If something happens, you have to run to Arabella's house.  There's a box of it sitting on her mantel.  Build a fire, throw a pinch of this into it, and shout 'The Burrow' really loud.  That'll take you to Ron's house, and you'll be safe there."

"I am _not_ setting foot in a wizard's house!" Uncle Vernon bellowed at the top of his lungs.  "Especially not the house of that madman Weasley!"

Arabella had suddenly risen to her feet.  "Is that so, Dursley?" she shrieked right back at him.  "Well, if He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named comes after you, then I'll make sure my doors are locked and you can't get to the Floo Network, and you'll just have to let him use the Killing Curse on you too!  If you won't believe Harry, perhaps I should ask Alastor to come over here and explain it to you!"

"Not necessary," a gruff voice said from the side.  Harry hadn't heard the slight 'pop' as Mad-Eye Apparated into the room.   "Calm down, Arabella.  Potter, if I catch you with that wand—" he didn't have to finish, as Harry swiftly removed it from his pocket.  "Besides, Arabella, I think the great git has figured it out on his own."

Arabella managed to catch her breath and control her temper.  "Anyway, Harry.  I was planning to go to London today and see Remus.  It's that time of the month, and I thought I'd take him a cake to cheer him up, and he can give you your birthday present."

Harry brightened at the thought of seeing Professor Lupin, but sunk as he thought of Grimmauld Place, with no Sirius there.  "Now, come, Harry," Arabella said quietly.  "You think it's bad, try being Remus, still living in that house without him.  Besides, your studying can wait," she said, eyeing the parchment on the counter.  She winked at him then.  "And I hear that the Weasleys and Miss Granger will be there, and I think Tonks was coming into London today, too.  Might be a regular birthday party for you."

"The Weasleys and Hermione?" he said, grinning.  The house wouldn't seem so empty.  Except that there would be no awful birthday cake from Hagrid this year.  He pushed the thought out of his head.  Today was a happy day.  

"Even Percy is coming, the prat," Moody said.  "I think he's finally gotten his head on straight, now."

"Well, if you hadn't tried to splinch it off the other day, I think that Percy would be more agreeable to your presence, Alastor," Arabella chastised.  "Anyway, coming, Harry?"

"Sure," Harry said, standing.  He Banished the schoolwork back to his room, and stuck his wand in his back pocket to a groan from Moody that he ignored.  "Let's go."

***


	2. Letters and News

**A/N: I'd thought I wouldn't write anymore because I hated what I had, but why the bloody hell not?**** Here we go.**

**Chapter 2: Letters and News**

Hedwig pecked at Harry's shoulder, and he reached up, absently, to give her a scratch on the head.  She hooted quietly.

He was enjoying being able to do his homework at the kitchen table instead of on his bedroom floor, now.  He could Banish it, quite quickly up to his room, in case company came, and Aunt Petunia seemed content to let him work there, except she'd forbidden him to make potions in the house.  "I'll let you do your writing here," she'd said in a high tone of voice.  "But anything with magic, you take to Mrs. Figg's house."

He could have written his potions essay at Arabella's, but he was enjoying the discomfiture that it gave the Dursley's for him to be sitting there, quite openly studying moving pictures in his Transfiguration book.  Hedwig was also now welcome to flit about the house as she pleased, although Aunt Petunia had nearly had a fit when Hedwig had made a mess on the living room furniture.  Harry had chuckled to himself before cleaning it up, winking at Hedwig on his way out.  After the mess was gone, Aunt Petunia had become quite calm.  

It was amazing how knowing that Harry had wizard friends two houses down would make Aunt Petunia suddenly more agreeable to the fact that Harry was living there and he was a wizard.

He wondered if giving the Dursley's the coins had changed her mind about him.

Of if she was afraid to make him move.

Or if she had finally realized that Lily Potter had never wanted to hurt her sister by becoming a witch.

In any case, he was still here, and his transfiguration essay was nearly done.  He chewed on the end of his quill, trying to think of an appropriate ending paragraph and wishing Hermione was there to help him.  

"Bloody owl!" a bellow came from the other room.  "Bloody MIDGET owl!" 

Harry stifled a laugh and gave a piercing whistle as Ron's owl, Pig, came hurtling through the house.  "Hello, Pig," he said, reaching to catch the owl.  Pig flitted out of his reach.  "Pig," he said, his tone threatening.  "Hedwig."

Hedwig flew up to the ceiling, straight into Pig's path, plucking Ron's letter from Pig's leg.  "Go on, get some water, Pig," Harry said, still holding back a laugh as Uncle Vernon came into the kitchen, face red.  

"Ruddy owl," he sputtered.  "Owls at all hours, but that one—"

"I've cursed at Pig more times than you, Uncle Vernon," Harry said as Hedwig hooted at his uncle.  "And be sure that Ron curses at him all the time."

Uncle Vernon made a sound of utter frustration, before grabbing a beer from the refrigerator and leaving the kitchen.  Harry did laugh, then.

He pushed aside his essay, opening the letter.

_Dear Harry,_

_What a week!  First your party, be sure to tell Mrs. Figg that Mum wants the recipe for that cake she baked.  Don't know that Mum will be able to do it, though, she's not much good at Muggle cooking, although Dad likes to watch her try.  She can give it to Mum in the fireplace, she's staying at the Burrow this week._

_Professor Lupin says to tell you that he had a good changing, and that he's glad you came to see him.  It cheered him up a lot, I think, and Hermione says she's not seen him look so happy all summer.  He didn't want her to stay here this summer, because, well, you know why, with her parents being Muggles and all, they've got to have some protection, and Hermione's the smartest witch in our year.  Hell, in anybody's year.  She's already done with all the homework we got over the break.  Lupin has been Apparating over to see her every couple of days, though.  Don't see why Hermione couldn't come over here, she passed her Apparating test with the highest score in seventy years.  Mine's next week, I'm trying to concentrate on studying and not splinching myself.  When's yours? _

_Fred and George said to say hi and that they're going to send you a couple of Canary Creams to try on __Dudley__.  They've been sending Self-flossing mints to Hermione to freak her parents out, and it's working pretty well, get Hermione to tell you about it.  Mundungus got them some crazy pixies, and they're trying to mix pixie dust and pepper to make you sneeze.  Bloody awful.  They're calling them Wheezes Sneezes.  _

_Bill came back from Egypt the day after you left, you know he went there for a couple of weeks, right?  He nearly got killed by a mummy last week, then came home and nearly got killed by our Mummy.  Haha.  He'll be all right, but the goblins wanted him to have a break, so you know how serious it was.  I did think Mum was going to finish the job for the mummy, though._

_Pig's been a bit hyper, you might want to send him straight home.  Bloody owl.  It's Crookshanks' fault, he tried to eat him the last time I sent a letter to Hermione.  He's recovering from a near-death experience.  _

_Anyway, I asked Ginny if she wanted to say hi, but she says she's going to send you another letter later, so be expecting it.  Dad says hi, and Mum says to send you a hug.  Bill would say hi, but he's still not talking, thanks to the curse that mummy put on him.  He's had to write everything he wanted to say out in the air with his wand.  You should have seen the day that I beat him at chess and he was swearing at me, and Mum walked in.  Priceless._

_Write back, will you?  It's been bloody crazy around here.  Even the wireless went crazy and it won't play anything but the same Weird Sister's song over and over again.  Hope the Dursley's aren't being a bunch of gits, yeah, right, I'm sure they are._

_Ron_

Harry grinned, setting down Ron's letter.   He reached for a piece of parchment, as Pig zoomed back into the kitchen, followed by a patient Hedwig.  "Calm down, Pig, I'm writing you one to take back."

_Dear Ron,_

_Crookshanks must really have scared Pig, he's acting crazy.  Nearly gave my uncle a heart attack, though, so I guess it was worth it.  They're not acting nearly like the gits they used to, I think me being allowed to use magic did part of it, and finding out that Mrs. Figg had wizards staying with her did the rest.   I'll be sure to tell her to stick her head in the fireplace and give your mum the recipe._

_Tell Bill I hope he can talk soon.  Sounds like an interesting job, but I don't think I want it.  Did Moody yell 'Constant Vigilance' at him, he's been roaring Arabella's head off with it every five minutes.  She's ready to kill him for it.  _

_My Apparation test is in two weeks.  Got the letter from the Ministry today.  Can't wait to see the Dursley's faces then.  Moody and Tonks are going with me.  Moody's Apparating ahead of me everywhere I go, and Tonks will be behind me.  Dumbledore arranged it with the Ministry, I think, so I'm not too worried.  Don't know what you're worried about either, Hermione nearly crammed that Apparation book into our heads before we left school._

_Which Weird Sister's song is the wireless playing?  The one Lupin gave me for Christmas seems to like to play "_Give Me Back My Wand_" over and over again.  _

_Almost finished with that beast of a Transfiguration essay McGonagall gave us.  If you see her, tell her that…well, never mind, don't tell her.  Tell your Mum and Dad and everyone else hi for me._

_Harry_

"Come here, Pig," he said, and the little owl zoomed past him.

Harry wasn't Seeker for the Gryffindor Quidditch team for nothing.  One hand shot out, and he grabbed the owl.  Pig squawked, but held still so Harry could tie the parchment to his leg.  "Go on back to Ron, now," he said.  "And stay out of the living room."

Pig hooted at him rudely before taking off, straight through the living room, to Harry's chagrin, and he heard Aunt Petunia shriek.  A crash met his ears, and he got up, poking his head into the living room to see her vase had been knocked over.  She noticed it in horror, and Harry stuck out his wand.  "_Reparo_."

The vase put itself back together, and she took a deep breath before picking it up and putting it back where it belonged.  Harry disappeared back into the kitchen.  His Transfiguration essay still wasn't done, but he would think up a proper ending later.  Banishing his schoolwork back to his desk, (he did that a lot now), he went into the living room, sitting down across from Dudley, who was watching some sort of show with lots of explosions.

"You're not eating with Mrs. Figg tonight?" Dudley asked.  While Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon were still disapproving of all of Harry's wizardry, Dudley, for some reason, seemed enthralled at the idea after hearing Harry's story.  Harry thought he was looking at it like it was a fairytale.

Harry shook his head.  "Moody's over there, and I don't feel like being shouted at for having my wand in my pocket or over constant vigilance again."  Dudley nodded and turned back to the television, and Harry wondered if his cousin perhaps wasn't nearly as bad as he thought he was.

Probably Dudley was, but it didn't matter.

Harry idly watched the television.  It was a World War Two movie, full of planes and shooting.  No wonder Dudley liked it.  

"You know there were wizards fighting in World War Two?"  Harry asked.

Dudley turned.  "No way."

Harry nodded.  "Hitler's right hand man was a wizard.  And Winston Churchill was a Squib."

Dudley's mouth fell open, and looked like he was trying to decide whether to believe that or not, but Uncle Vernon butted in.  "Poppycock!"

Harry looked up as the news service broke into the movie.  Dudley groaned.  "They're messing up the best part!"

"This is Janet White, from the BBC news service," the anchor said.  "This just in, a explosion has rocked a dentist's office outside of London.  Drs. Granger and Granger—"

The woman didn't have to continue.  Harry was on his feet in an instant, and a fire sprang into the fireplace.  Muttering a charm, he stuck his head in the fireplace.  "ARABELLA!  MAD-EYE!!  HURRY!!!"

Mad-Eye was there in seconds, Apparating straight into the living room, wand out.  "What is it?" he demanded.  

"Hermione's parents office—there was an explosion—saw it on the Muggle news—" Harry said.  Moody Disapparated with a sharp crack, and Harry pointed his wand in the direction of his room.  "_Accio parchment!"_

His parchment came flying from his room, and his quill and ink quickly followed.  

_RON—_

_GET THEM TOGETHER NOW, SOMETHING'S HAPPENED TO HERMIONE'S PARENTS._

_HARRY_

He tied the scrap of parchment to Hedwig's leg.  "Hurry, find Ron, take this to him."

Hedwig shot out the window, and Harry finally calmed down enough to listen to the news again.

"Even stranger is the pattern that appeared in the smoke above the clinic.  Green smoke, appearing to look like a skull and snake, was seen by several bystanders."

"No," Harry whispered.  "Oh, please no."

"What does that mean?"  Aunt Petunia said, her voice quivering.

"The Dark Mark," Harry said.  "Death Eaters shoot it into the sky when they kill someone."

Moody's head appeared in the fireplace.  "Potter, get over here, we're going."  The Auror's head disappeared again.  Harry extinguished the flames in the fireplace.  

"You're not going anywhere!"  Uncle Vernon roared suddenly.  "You're—you're staying right here.  Up to your room where that bloody whats-his-name can't get you!"

Harry didn't listen, not even fazed that Uncle Vernon had actually said something concerning Harry's welfare in a good way, the front door of the house slamming behind him.  

Privet Drive was surprisingly quiet, and Harry hurried down the street to Mrs. Figg's house.  It was strange that Mad-Eye Moody's head had been in the fireplace, and most people on Privet Drive would faint if they saw it.  

Moody was standing in the doorway, when Harry approached.  "Move it, Potter!" he bellowed, and Harry sped up.

The fireplace was already roaring, making the living room uncomfortably warm for the first week of August.  "Headquarters," Moody said, prodding Harry in the back with his wand.  "Go on, then.  I'll Apparate right behind you."

Harry took a pinch of the Floo powder on Arabella's mantel and threw it into the fireplace.  Stepping in, he shouted, "Grimmauld Place!"

The fireplaces of wizarding houses sped by, and Harry finally stopped at one.  He ducked his head out, and saw a bright red head waiting.  "What the bloody hell is going on?" it yelled at him.  

Harry brushed himself off as Mad-Eye suddenly popped into the living room, his pop considerably more quiet than Mundungus Fletcher's.  "Where's Remus?" Moody demanded.

"He Apparated out of here as soon as your head left the fire," Ron Weasley said crossly.  "Didn't tell me where he was going.  WHAT'S HAPPENED TO HERMIONE?"

"Enough," Moody said.  "Who else is here?"

"Fred and George are upstairs," Ron said, his face growing redder by the second.

"Good," Moody said.  "Stay here."  He Disapparated.

"Wonderful," Ron said, throwing his hands up in the air.  "Don't you just love it how they don't bloody well tell us anything around here?"  He looked at Harry.  "What's going on around here?"

Harry pushed his glasses up further on his nose.  "I saw it on the Muggle news.  There was an explosion at Hermione's parent's office."    
  


Ron seemed to gulp for air.  "Do they know if—if they're all right?  Or where Hermione is?"

"Ron—" Harry started, wondering whether he should tell his friend.  He glanced at Ron's freckled face, and knew he had to.  He'd quit keeping secrets from his friends.  All they managed to do was get people killed.  "Er..the Muggles saw something, they said it on the news.  The Dark Mark was floating over the office."

Ron sat down on the ratty couch, looking almost shell-shocked, and ran his hand through his hair, making it stand on end.  "Bloody hell."

Harry sat down across from him, noticing the strange quiet in the house.  "What happened to Sirius' mum?  I thought she'd be having a fit over all the noise in the house."

"When Lupin went to check on Hermione the other day, she gave him a spell to take the Permanent Sticking Charm off.  We stowed all of Sirius' relatives in the attic so they can yell all they want to," Ron said gloomily.  

"Oi!  Ron!  What in blue blazes is going on?"  Fred yelled from the top of the stairs.  

"Get down here, you prat!" Ron bellowed back.  "NOW!"

"Whatever you say," Fred said, and Ron's breath went out in a _whoosh_ as Fred Apparated directly into his lap.  "Hullo, Harry," he said brightly.  Ron shoved him off the couch in disgust, yelling the entire story at the top of his lungs.

"—AND NOW HER PARENT'S ARE PROBABLY DEAD AND WE DON'T KNOW WHERE SHE IS AND YOU'RE APPARATING INTO MY LAP, YOU GIT!"

Fred's first smile disappeared.  "But—Hermione's not done anything—"

"She's Muggle-born," Harry said glumly.  "And Malfoy hates her, so it's no wonder.  He probably talked the Death Eaters into doing it for him."

Pig zoomed into the living room, dropped a letter in Ron's lap and shot straight off again.  Ron stared at the piece of parchment, looking like he was scared to death to open it.

"Come on, Ron," Fred said.  "If was bad news, they'd have come straight here to tell us."

Ron seemed some comforted by this thought and unrolled the parchment, reading it aloud.

_Boys, (Weasleys AND Harry)_

_We found Hermione's parents, they're okay, just a bit singed.  The mediwizards are taking them to St. Mungo's for the moment.  We're trying to get all the Muggle's memories modified, which will be hard thanks to their news people.  DO NOT LEAVE THE HOUSE.  We're still trying to find Hermione, if she comes there, DON'T LET HER LEAVE.  If she comes, tell her I'll take her to see her parents later._

_Dad_

"They haven't found Hermione," Ron said weakly.  "Harry—Harry, what if they did the Killing Curse on her and then blew up the office to hide it—or—"

"If they wanted to hide a Killing Curse, they wouldn't shoot up the Dark Mark afterwards, would they?" George said, trying to be reasonable.  

"HELP!" a voice screeched from behind them, and Harry looked up to see a tall witch.  Her hair was more bushy than normal, as if the wind had been attacking it for days, and her wand was out and ready.  

"HERMIONE!"  Ron yelped, nearly leaping over the back of the couch.  Harry followed him just as fast, squashing Hermione between them in a huge hug.  

"Mum and Dad," she said breathlessly, pulling herself away from her two friends.  "They—"

"They're all right, they're at St. Mungo's," Ron said.  "Dad says you have to stay here, and he'll take you to see them after they get done Obliviating the Muggles' memories."

Hermione seemed to sag, and Harry and Ron helped her over to the couch.  "Where have you been?" Ron demanded.  "The last twenty minutes have been the worst of our lives, Hermione?"

"I was at my grandma's," Hermione said.  "I was driving home when I heard—yes, driving, Ron, my grandparents don't know I'm a witch—on the radio there'd been an explosion.  I had to find someplace to park the car so I could Apparate here.  I was going to go straight to their office, but I knew if there were Death Eaters around, I couldn't, so I came here.  And they're really all right?"

"Here," George said, Summoning a glass of pumpkin juice from the kitchen.  "Take a breath when you talk, Hermione."

Harry ignored him.  "We just got a letter from Mr. Weasley.  They're all right, we promise."

Hermione took a deep breath.  "Death Eaters tried to kill my parents."  She looked up her friends.  "Now what do we do?"

***


End file.
